Guadeloupe to St. Vincent and the Grenadines

Photo album

(Ed note: due to the frequency of reports from Aubrey, I am combining a number of logs)

During our last day there, the town was totally closed down, all stores closed, streets deserted; even the internet café we went ashore to go to was closed. Oh well, the E-mail would have to wait. However, that night a repetitive intense drumming noise from La Darse was to be heard echoing across the anchorage. We went in with Sprite to investigate and found the Place de la Victoire alive with hundreds of people milling about, with bands and groups of people marching around the plaza. There was smoke wafting up from dozens of trailers and stalls barbecuing kebabs, hamburgers, corn, plantains, nuts, chicken and fish; and stalls selling trinkets candy floss, ice creams, beer and cocktails. This was a fantastic contrast to the deserted streets of the afternoon.

Bands of locals in deep red shirts, dresses, sarongs, baggy pants, tight pedal pushers (Does this term date me?) and jeans paraded, danced and gyrated in groups with the deep rhythmic throbbing of drums, bongos, and hollowed bamboo, accompanied by tinny trumpets and whistles (see attached photo). Some groups had banners in front; others were just a rag-tag group of all sizes and ages having a good time stomping around the periphery of the plaza. There were no floats or organized marching bands. In the park people were out enjoying the festivities; groups of exuberant teenagers - the girls in their skin-tight pants or miniskirts, with midriff blouses, bodies pierced in various painful looking places, many with their hair severely braided (but no Afros) or guys in sloppy baggy shorts half way down their behinds with loose-fitting garish shirts, all in intense colours, mostly black, gold, and red; families with children in tow; others wandering in a carefree haze induced by drugs or alcohol. We enjoyed the people watching (95 % of them were black). We found out from a father strolling with his family that this was a post carnival festivity. We left after a couple of hours for the relative quiet of Veleda and a good night's sleep before leaving next morning.

We did our check out routine at the marina, (but we were still allowed to go to the Saintes, part of Guadeloupe without checking in or out again) bought some more grocery supplies, filled a couple of jerrycans with cheaper duty free diesel, and did some E-mail before heading back to Veleda and weighing anchor by 1245. The winds were light force 2 to 3 from the SSE, and we motorsailed most of the way with only an hour under sail the 23 miles, to anchor off Bourg des Saintes on Terre D'En Haut (15 52.01N, 061 35.20W), but in 38 feet (12 metres) of water.

En route, I caught a large 30 inch (76 cm) barracuda, long and menacing, slender, with vicious looking teeth. However, we had read in our pilot book that big barracuda can be infested with ciguatera, a fish poison found in species at the top of the food chain, and so we decided not to eat this one. What to do with it? The idea of trying to take the hook out of its fierce tooth-lined mouth while it was alive and writhing did not appeal, but to kill it and then throw it overboard did not make sense. I gripped it solidly with my gloved hand behind the head, and worked the hook out of its upper jaw. Thankfully the hook came our without having to rip it out, and in a single motion, I threw the fish overboard. In a flash it streaked down, disappearing from the surface. We were subsequently told by some locals that they were OK to eat, but we didn't want to take chances.


Isles des Saintes consist of two larger islands, Terre D'En Bas and Terre D'En Haut, as well as a half dozen smaller uninhabited ones. Bourg des Saintes is the only town, a pleasant Gallic community with a laid-back simplicity, but adequate grocery stores, restaurants, hardware stores, churches, a few small tourist homes, tourist boutiques and a few good internet sites. Jet skis are not allowed on the waters and cars are not allowed on land (exceptions made for some tourist minivans and motor scooters). Cruise ships occasionally stop here for a day at a time to let the passengers experience the ambience of the islands.

Next morning we went for a walk a mile up the hill to Fort Napoleon, now a museum, a fortress built between 1844 and 1867 to deter the English. The islands, discovered by Columbus in November 1493, were called by him Los Santos in honour of All Saints' Day. They bounced back and forth between the French who initially colonized them in 1648, and the British who held them for a few months in 1666, and took them again in 1782. They lost them to the French in 1802, to reconquer them in 1809 and return them to the French in the Treaty of Paris in 1814. The islands were then taken over again by the British in 1815, and finally returned to the French in 1816. Fort Napoleon was used by the Vichy French government as a political prison for the Gaullist dissidents in 1942-43. Apparently the French Caribbean islands were under the administration of the Vichy government after France surrendered to the Germans. I would like to know more about that era, as I can't see the US allowing the pro-German Vichy governments of the French Caribbean islands a free hand to help Germany against the allies in WW II.

However, now the fort is a very good museum with an attractive botanical garden on the encircling ramparts. In addition to presentations on local history, fishing, and customs, there was a room full of displays relating to the naval Battle of the Saintes in 1782. In this battle, Admiral Rodney defeated a French fleet in the 20 mile wide channel between the Saintes and Dominica to the south. The French fleet under Count de Grasse had been instrumental in aiding those "revolting" Americans in the Battle of the Chesapeake and the subsequent surrender of Yorktown in 1781. Now (1782) the French fleet was threatening Trinidad and other British Caribbean possessions. The battle lasted for almost 12 hours. It was notable as being the first time the traditional battle lines were dispensed with, as Admirals Rodney and Hood broke through the French lines (rather than following the traditional tactics of two parallel lines hammering away at each other) to be the first in the Royal Navy to "cross the T", splitting the French forces and giving the British a broadside gun advantage, then mopping them up in smaller melees, a strategy successfully used by Nelson later at Trafalgar (see attached diagram from the Fort Napoleon display).

The botanical gardens were well maintained, including a natural escarpment where several large lizards, iguanas, (see attached photo) resided. We hadn't seen any iguanas since we were on Allen Key in the Bahamas seven years ago. The view over the anchorage (see attached photo), and the Saintes from the fort was a beautiful Caribbean panorama, We were attracted by a shallow bay with translucent shallows, allowing us to see the rocks, coral and sea grass mottled through the clear turquoise, emerald blue and pale green waters. (See attached picture) We decided to motor around to that more isolated bay next day before heading off to Dominica.

We left from that idyllic anchorage in Marigot Bay (15 52.56N, 061 35.00W) on the northern tip of Terre D'En Haut on March 28 for the 22 mile passage, across the waters where the Battle of the Saintes took place, into Portsmouth on Prince Rupert Bay on the northwest corner of the island of Dominica.

We would rate the Saintes as one of our favourite areas for its low key lifestyle, good anchorages, clear waters, good provisioning, and no hassles from yacht boys as we were to experience in Dominica and St. Vincent later.

Dominica

We departed turquoise blue/green Baie de Marigot from Les Saintes at 0800 March 28, motoring into a light force 3 SE wind. We left the engine on a bit longer than we needed to, in order to charge up the batteries. We sailed along at hull speed with a 15 knot south easterly wind for a couple of hours until nearing the northern coast of Dominica, when we again turned on the engine earlier than needed in order to have reasonably full batteries by the time we were to anchor. I trolled a fishing line without success, but as we approached the coast we saw a beautiful square rigged ship under full sail, Sea Cloud. It was a lovely sight. We have seen many tall sailing cruise ships down here in the Caribbean, from humongous five masted fore and aft rigged luxury ships to small wooden fully rigged brigantines with square-rigged foremast and fore-and-aft mizzen, which use their sails as their primary source of propulsion; but mostly we see them at anchorages or in ports.

While motoring down the coast, at least two miles from our intended anchorage, we were approached in the open water by a brightly coloured local wooden open boat with a 45 horsepower engine with Alexis, who was enquiring about our plans, if we wanted a mooring buoy, tours, water supplies, taxi service, and other services we had not thought of. We tried not to make any commitment as I would rather have time to anchor, go ashore to the local tourist office, get the lay of the land, and then decide what services, what tours etc., we wanted to take. I dislike being pressured from some local to accept any of his services while still under way or while anchoring. Our pilot book told of these "boat vendors", but indicated in Dominica they are being organized by The Indian River Guides Association, and bring a degree of "professionalism" to the service. We were informed that such approved guides were to wear official tee shirts or badges, but such was not noticed on Alexis, or many of the many others who approached us shortly after anchoring.

After Alexis departed, we made our way into Prince Rupert Bay, anchoring in the northern part just off Big Papa's beach bar and restaurant south west of the Cabrits, two hills which are part of a National Park with old British fortifications. We tried four times before the anchor set securely. There were a couple of large sailing cruise ships as well as dozens of other cruising yachts at anchor here off the town of Portsmouth, and another smaller group along the southern portion of the bay, further from the town.

We were then approached by Albert, one of the guides mentioned in our pilot book. We preferred him due to his recommendation, but after his speil he asked if we were approached by anyone before entering the bay. We described Alexis but tried to explain we had made no commitment to him. He was reluctant to "take customers away" from another guide, and suggested he would check with Alexis. When Alexis appeared an hour later, we figured we may as well go ahead with him, and made arrangements for an Indian River boat tour next day. Alexis was friendly and informative, and worked out well. Albert did not make any more contact with us, and it appears these guides in the larger runabouts do not want to offend each other.


The other boat vendors are another matter. They come around in old wooden rowing skiffs, or, what is more common, paddling by hand or with a plank of wood, balanced on their knees on an old surfboard laden with a plastic bag of fruits and vegetables. We had a couple of unfortunate experiences with these guys, and are reluctant to deal with them any more. They were friendly enough, but the produce they offered was poor and overpriced, as much better could be had shopping ashore. They say they can get you anything if they are not carrying it with them. They have a price which, if you have not done much local shopping you do not know, is significantly inflated. We felt reluctant to try to bargain down their prices as we knew these people are very poor and their economy is marginal. At least they were out there trying to eke out some cash from the boaters, but they depend upon our sympathy and our good manners and our reluctance to keep saying "No" in the face of their many offers and entreaties.


We went ashore, all the way down to the customs and immigration dock to check in. One of the yacht vendors had offered a water taxi to the location, but we were able to use Sprite. We checked in with no problems other than to get a coastal permit we were asked to come back when ready to leave. We decide not to seek such and did an in and out routine that day, indicating we were staying only three days. We subsequently found another boater who checked in the same day we did and received his coastal permit at the same time. Maybe we should be more directly inquisitive about such things. However, coastal cruising on Dominica is not that good as there are few good anchorages, and the island can be toured from here in Portsmouth.


The town of Portsmouth was originally the capital of Dominica, but due to the malaria carried by mosquitos from the two swamps which border the town, it was shifted down to Roseau. The main town square was a busy bus and taxi area with a main street just in from the shoreline. The actual waterfront is dotted with the rusting hulks of at least six large merchant ships blown ashore in various hurricanes. What a sight to have in your beachfront sea view, a large rusty hull blotting out the panorama of the bay and the breeze! The streets had open drainage ditches as we saw in St. Johns, Antigua. Driving is on the left hand side of the road and the Eastern Caribbean dollar is used. Walking on the roads is a dangerous activity due to the open drains crisscrossing the few attempts at sidewalks, most of which have broken concrete surfaces, and the large vehicles, many SUV's, and other traffic on the narrow roads. I felt quite uncomfortable walking on their streets.


Next day, Alexis was at Veleda and took us over for a most enjoyable tour up the Indian River, a most interesting leisurely trip deep into the tropical swamp (see attached picture). The guide rowed us three kilometres up the mangrove lined opening and into the heart of dense vegetation, the gnarled roots of the cedars, eucalyptus, and bloodwood trees spreading across the marshy soil and twisting down into the river, indirectly supporting the banks and preventing erosion from the frequent rains and occasional tidal surge. Vines straggle down branches, boughs hang across the slow-moving stream, creating a tunneled bower, a quiet canopy in this primaeval tropical rain forest. At a rest stop where the stream narrows too much for further exploration by boat, the guide took us for a walk around to see coconut and banana trees, pineapples and many exotic flamboyantly coloured flowers. He showed how palm fronds are woven, and made a few simple but elegant fish-shaped souvenirs for the women. He also explained how all aspects of the coconuts and coconut trees are used: from the nut, milk, meat, and oils for cooking and making soaps and cosmetics; the fronds for shelter, the trunks for building and fires, the husks for bowls and cups; meanwhile hacking open a coconut and sharing the meat of it with the small group. It was a worthwhile tour and the guide was most informative.


Next day we took a minibus tour of the island with Winston, a wiry local who seemed to be related to half the population and known by the other half. We toured the northern half and central area of this mountainous island with its lush vegetation, waterfalls, tropical rain forest, and the Carib reservation on the northeast coast. The roads are steep and winding, as they go up and down and around the valleys and mountains. There are no tunnels going through mountains or bridges spanning the many gorges. Our pilot book was quite apt in its introduction of Dominica - "When Christopher Columbus was before King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella of Spain, trying to describe the awe-inspiring mountains of Dominica, he had to resort to crumpling up a sheet of paper to illustrate the dramatic form of the land, with its valleys, gorges and pinnacles."


There are many good hiking trails through the national parks in the mountains. We enjoyed a stop at Emerald Falls where we had a chance to swim in the pool beneath the falls and stand under the cataract of cool fresh water (see attached picture). The giant spreading roots and trunks of the trees in this tropical forest were impressive. Dominica is a beautiful country.

Dominica to Martinique

On our tour around Dominica with Winston, we stopped at a Carib reservation, not unlike our Native reserves in Canada, an area of the east coast of Dominica where the Carib natives fled to be away from the colonists and their slave populations in the central and west coast areas. Here they attempt to maintain their culture in impoverished situations and using the tourist trade as a source of income. We enjoyed watching them make casava bread and found a semi-completed dugout canoe to which they would add wooden slat sides to make it an operational rowing skiff for fishing. (See attached photo) We enjoyed a Caribbean local restaurant for lunch with a fantastic view over the coastline. On the way across the central spine, (? I'm not sure if this is the right term as the island is such a hodgepodge of volcanic hills and valleys, scattered helterskelter across the island with no sequence of ridges or valleys; remember Columbus' reference to a crumpled piece of paper to describe the topography of Dominica) we went into a couple of National Parks, to glorious waterfalls, tropical rainforest walks, into gorges and onto mountain crests with fantastic panoramas. On our way back to Portsmouth, the rum factory was closed, and so Judy and I went down by mini-bus next day to see this primitive, but still operational rum factory using a water wheel as its basic source of power to crush the sugar cane, and a wood fired furnace for warming the sugar juices and the fermentation processes. The rum was acceptable, but not as smooth as many others I have liked.


The most modern part of Portsmouth was the area around the medical school, which prepared medical students to enter or be certified by US medical institutions. (There is a similar one in St. Georges in Grenada; the US marines invaded a few years ago to protect the American students studying there.) The rest of the town was fairly third world, one step below Mindelo in the Cape verde Islands, although the island is a tropical paradise.


We went ashore to the Purple Turtle for an enjoyable Caribbean meal; I especially enjoyed the codfish cakes. However, the second night, another bar/restaurant, Big Papas, had an all night loud music fest, with ear crashing noise for 18 hours out of a 24 hour period (and with few people around)! We moved a mile south, and could still hear the outlandish cacophany! We were cautioned not to move over to the south side as there were reports of a "cat burglar" who boarded yachts at night to lift whatever he could find. We did not hear any first hand reports of this.


Another trip we took was into the Cabrits National Park on the north side of the harbour which consists of Fort Shirley, an 18th century British fort, and a few gun bastions around the hilltops. The walks to the gun bastions were enjoyable easy hikes giving through some lovely tropical forests and giving spectacular views over the harbour and the adjacent bay to the north. The fort itself is in the process of being restored and is an interesting and informative sight that is also good for a picnic area.(see photo of the harbour area from the fort)


On April 3, we weighed anchor to head down to Roseau where we planned to anchor for the night before heading down to Martinique. The area around Roseau is steep to, where it is recommended to anchor and take a line ashore or to pick up a buoy. Judy would rather have the security of a mooring buoy, and so we picked one up. The pilot book said they would cost about $5.00 US, but a British boat said they were paying $10.00 US. OK, but an hour later when a local came in an open boat with his five year old child aboard, after a few minutes of pleasant conversation, he said the price was $15.00 US ! We paid it, but were not happy at such an increase! We did not bother going ashore and left at 0630 next morning for the 48 miles to Fort de France in Martinique. We had a good sail heading 170 M into a SE force 5 wind. Again I towed a couple of trolling lines with no success. At 1500 we were anchored off the fort of Fort De France, the major city of Martinique (14 35.97N, 061 04.11`W).


Martinique is the northernmost of the Windward Islands. As part of France, it is a first world economy as contrasted with Dominica and Antigua, it uses the Euro currency, drives on the "proper side of the road - the right", has no open drainage ditches, and has some enjoyable pedestrian malls in the main part of town. We were too late to check in at the Duane but when there were informed by a posted notice that such could be done at Sea Services, a chandlery at the other side of town by the bus and ferry docks. Of course it was closed by the time we read this notice. There was no problem in checking in next day at Sea Services, a good chandlery and nautical boutique. By filling out a single form, showing our passports and ship's papers, we were once again in France.


The fort whose walls we were anchored beneath was not open for tourists. The city has a charming downtown area, with the ferry docks and bus station only a hundred metres from where we were anchored. There is a long seaside promenade extending towards the fort from the ferry docks at which we could tie up the dinghy. It was a convenient anchorage, the only problem being the roll caused by the high speed cat ferries, but fortunately they did not run at night.


We took a mini-bus back up the coast to St. Pierre. We passed by this town but unfortunately did not anchor as the shoreline appeared too steep to. We were wrong in that assessment as we saw several yachts at anchor in that placid bay, swinging on single anchors and no lines going ashore. We took a useless, frustrating tour train ride. It slowly went around a few blocks along the shore line and stopped for almost 50 minutes at one location while the guide regaled the group with anecdotes about the town and the devastating volcanic eruption of 1902. Unfortunately it was all in French, and even Judy had a hard time listening through his heavy accent. I left the group and wandered on my own through the town built on the ruins of the old town before the eruption.


The town museum was very good, with displays presenting all the information that presumably was given on the tour train. It was divided into two sections, one of pictures and history of the town before the eruption, and the other of the eruption, devastation and loss of life with this cataclysmic event. Mt. Pelee can be seen from town (see attached photo). In 1902 St. Pierre was a thriving small city of 30,000, referred to as the "Paris of the Caribbean". The volcano gave plenty of warning, with preliminary eruptions: on the 2nd of May covering the city with a light layer of ash and destroying a nearby plantation with boiling volcanic mud; on May 5th another eruption spewed a torrent of volcanic lava, mud, gases and rocks, burying a plantation in another valley beneath 100 feet of lava and mud. The authorities chose not to evacuate the city, probably because of political and economic pressure. The other eruptions had been down valleys, and the St. Pierre side was thought to be safe. Travel excursions by ship from Fort de France came up to give spectators a view of the smoking volcano.


On Ascension Day, May 8, the volcano glowed, then blew in a gigantic explosion with a force greater than the atomic bomb that destroyed Hiroshima. A fireball of superheated gas blasted over the city, killing 29,933 people within 90 seconds, destroying the buildings and twelve ships in the harbour. The museum had some horrendous photos of hundreds of bodies in the town square and other parts of the devastated city, as well as relics of items warped and burnt by the fireball, including the large heavy church bell which was melted into a lopsided shape. Many ruins remain, some of the old walls incorporated into newer buildings, but several left as they were after the blast. The town now has a population of only 5,000.


After a pleasant lunch at a shoreside restaurant, we walked a couple of kilometres out of town to Le Centre des Sciences de la Terre, an excellent earth sciences display with explanations of volcanoes, earthquakes, and hurricanes. It had a hands on science room and some fantastic aerial photography of the verdant area now around Mt. Pelee. There were some interesting photos of geographic regions of the world and excellent orbital photography showing the use of satellite imagery to identify the effects of soil erosion, urban expansion, and pollution. There were some English translations, but most of the displays and explanatory material were in French only.

Martinique to St. Lucia

Back in Fort de France (Martinique) we sent some E-mail from a small internet cafe/bar run by a pleasant Australian lady. The LAN hookup worked well. Happiness is a good LAN or WiFi connection, getting on the internet with my own laptop. The ultimate happiness is a good Wi Fi connection from the boat. The new computer has a much better ability to connect to other networks than did the older Inspiron. When talking to the Australian woman about Canada, she played us a piece on her computer by the "Arrogant Worms?" a Canadian group from Calgary with humourous lyrics lampooning other parts of Canada, from British Columbia to Newfoundland, and of course Toronto, the city the rest of Canada loves to hate.

It was a bit rolly in the anchorage at Fort de France with the ferries coming and going, and so we were able to clear out at the chandlery on May 6 to depart the country on May 7, allowing us to go across the bay to a quieter anchorage at Anse Noire for the night and leave next day (or up to three days later). This leeway in exiting after checking out is convenient, as it is nice to go to a quiet anchorage away from the bigger communities, and then depart the country rather than having to leave immediately. Judy gets nervous if we have checked out but don't leave that same day. Contrary to the problems that French officials have been reported to make in Europe, the clearing in and out in the French islands of Guadeloupe and Martinique has been easy and convenient.

Anse Noire (14 31.70N, 061 05.31W) is an idyllic deeply indented bay with a palm tree-lined black sand beach at the head of the inlet. There was only one other boat in the anchorage. There was a large dock for the resort, tastefully hidden by the palm trees, at which we could leave Sprite to wander the beach, explore the hillsides, and walk over to the next bay where we had a delicious lunch overlooking the bright yellow, orange and green dugout fishing skiffs. These are still used, a dugout low freeboard hull, augmented by higher wooden strakes to make it reasonably seaworthy in shoreline fishing.

While dinghying around in Sprite we heard a twittering from one of the caves, and realized it was a bat cave. On closer inspection we could see hundreds of bats clinging upside down to the walls, and a few fluttering about. We also saw an unusual form of jellyfish that seemed to dominate much of the inlet's water. They had what looked to be two transparent cells about the size of tennis balls, joined, each cell with two dark nuclei, no streaming tendrils. They did not seem to have any stinging properties as Judy was swimming in them. Actually, Judy wasn't swimming, but was being towed behind Sprite in an experiment to see if we could make a sled to tow one of us with a snorkel to survey the bottom. It didn't work. The person being towed was OK and had a chance to see the bottom, but even when towing with a bridle hookup, there was no steerage possible with the dinghy. The only way to tow a swimmer and be able to steer would be by having the tow from the bow and motoring in reverse. We didn't bother following up on that possibility as the jellyfish were too numerous.

We left early the second morning heading down to St. Lucia, 30 miles away. Off the southern tip of Martinique we had to take pictures of (HMS) Diamond Rock, a steep isolated rock pinnacle, barren except for scrub brush and snakes, that was manned by the Royal Navy for 18 months around 1804, and commissioned as a ship, to give a nasty surprise to any French ships heading to Martinique (see attached picture). There are many other ports and anchorages on Martinique that we missed, but we anticipate returning a few times over the next few years.

We sailed much of the distance, but used the engine more than we needed in order to charge up the batteries. The winds are so good down here that we do not have the engine on long enough sailing between anchorages to fully charge the batteries. We are looking to replace our wind generator when we get to Trinidad, as the winds down here would make one quite useful.

We dropped anchor in Rodney Bay (14 04.90N, 060 57.45W), St. Lucia, a mile wide sand-fringed bay protected from the north by Pigeon Island, which was the site of a major British naval base in the 17 and 1800's, and which now gives added protection because of the causeway joining it to the headland. There is a lagoon, accessible through a buoyed channel, with another spacious anchoring area and a large marina which has the customs and immigration officials in one office, several restaurants, internet sites, chandleries, a laundry, and a small grocery store.

Anchored in the Lagoon was Draco, with Frank Fitzpatrick, whom we met a week ago up in Pointe a Petrie on Gudeloupe. He gave me some useful information, especially about the location of a dinghy dock at the far end of the lagoon, but near a large modern supermarket and shopping mall. It was a bit strange as this was the first time we had been in a modern supermarket and mall with English as the main language, with English packaging, etc. Being a former British colony, St. Lucia uses the Eastern Caribbean dollar, and they drive on the left hand side of the road, as they do in England.

Next afternoon we sailed the 10 miles down to Marigot Bay, another idyllic Caribbean bay and inner lagoon sheltered by palm trees on a sand spit and fringed by mangrove trees. We were there on our anniversary, and enjoyed a lovely Caribbean meal in a waterside restaurant. The lagoon is being overdeveloped with resorts, restaurants, and condominiums, but the palm trees and mangrove swamps keep a few rustic areas.

While there and shortly after leaving, I was reading a novel "Ramage and the Freebooters" by Dudley Pope, in which this British naval officer had to hunt down some pirates who were intercepting shipping from Grenada to Guadeloupe, and disappearing without a trace. I hate to give away the story, but the pirates (freebooters) used the lagoon of Marigot Bay as their hidden anchorage, and pulled extra palm trees across the narrow spit to make it look like just the outer bay, concealing their pirate ships. There is also a historical incident of some British ships hiding in the lagoon, and using palm fronds in their rigging to elude the French ships. The attached picture of the sunset through the palm trees from the lagoon gives an indication of how well the location would serve for hiding a few ships in the 17 and 1800's.

St. Lucia - Hurricane Avoidance

Marigot Bay seems a common name in the Caribbean; we have found at least two other locations with Marigot as the name. The Marigot Bay on St. Lucia is still a nice well protected anchorage, at least the inner lagoon (13 57.95N, 061 01.40W), as we spent one night anchored in the outer bay and found it a bit rolly. The inner lagoon would make a good hurricane hole, especially alongside the mangrove trees. We keep our eyes out for good locations in case of hurricanes as we will be sailing the Caribbean for the next few years, and are not guaranteed avoiding them even if we are outside of the box, or out of season. Hurricane season is from June to October and the box is from 12 Degrees North Latitude to 27 Degrees or further North, which includes all of the Caribbean and Gulf of Mexico out to 55 Degrees West Longitude, east of the longitude of Bermuda, definitions of both time and geographical box depending upon which insurance company is defining the zone. Helping a friend sail his boat from Halifax to Norfolk Virginia in November a few years ago I just missed by three days a hurricane that hit Halifax, and it is definitely out of the zone. If we are sailing in the southern Caribbean (even north of 12 Degrees North Latitude), and we get a five day warning of one heading for the area, we will head directly south, able to cover 2 degrees southerly latitude each day, hopefully putting us well south of most hurricane tracks. If we have only shorter notice, we will seek the nearest hurricane hole to lash Veleda inside. Hurricane avoidance is a major concern and complication in our sailing plans.

Soufriere and the Pitons

On weighing anchor in Marigot Bay lagoon we had to use the deck wash pump to clean off the mud adhering to it. Although messy, this is proof that the holding in the lagoon is indeed very good. Motoring the 10 miles to charge our batteries we went down to the small town of Soufriere, where we picked up a buoy just off Rachette Point (13 51.44N, 061 03.91W). This is part of the park administered by the Soufriere Marine Management Association (SMMA). The buoy was a reasonable fee of $40.00 EC (about $15.00 Canadian) for two nights or $54.00 EC ($21.00 Canadian) for a week. We took the two night rate as the mooring was rolly. We did not want to try anchoring as the shore was steep to and anchoring was not recommended. We took a stern line ashore to orient us towards the incoming swells. The location was ideal as it was just outside a bat cave, and only a few hundred yards from the rock arch at Rachette Point, and near a park buoy where we secured Sprite in an interesting area to snorkel.

We have encountered the name Soufriere several times and found it means sulphur, related to the volcanic gases in the area. From our mooring we had an excellent view of the Pitons, (Petit Piton, 2460 feet and Gros Piton 2619 feet ) two dramatic mountain domes which dominate the southern shores of St Lucia, and serve as the island's symbol. Going to the main dock which had some dinghies alongside, we were accosted by a chubby boy who muttered something to us we could not understand. After a few repeats we realized he was wanting to watch our dinghy for us. Sprite was locked to the dock and we said, "No thanks" several times. At the shoreside end of the dock we were approached by another man who rattled off an offer to take us around a series of sites for $50.00 US. We tried declining against his insistent sales pitch, as we wanted time to think about where we wanted to go without making a commitment before we left the dock. I dislike these high pressure sales pitches, and it is all I can do not to be rude in rejecting them, especially after I had said, "No thanks" a couple of times.

We went across the road to the SMMA office to get some maps and to see what areas were of interest to us. Several of the places were ones which the man had offered as part of his $50.00 tour, and so we went across the road to arrange it. We needed to go back to Veleda to get camera and swim suits, as the tour included a pool beneath a waterfall. The tour was OK, taking us to several sites in a four hour period. At each site there was an entry fee of between $5.00 and $10.00 EC each. The taxi driver waited the half hour or so we were at each, then took us to the next. I guess it was the fastest way to see several attractions in a short period of time.

The first was a "drive in caldera" where buses, minivans and taxis deposited the tourists to walk around above sulphur springs with a guide explaining the cause of the sulphurous gases and the pools of boiling mud, and noting people are not allowed to walk across the area; several years ago a tour guide got too close to a fumarole and the surface gave way dumping him into the boiling mud beneath. We had seen and walked across similar sulphur fields and steaming fumaroles on Nisiros in the Greek Aegean and the Fields of Fire on the Bay of Naples near Vesuvius. While at this caldera, we heard from a cruise ship tourist that they had seen from their ship molten lava from the Soufriere Hills, the volcano on Montserrat (see Log #40d). No one is living in the exclusion zone in the south half of Montserrat and so there should be no one hurt.

Next we went up into a park area where we hiked over well kept trails through the tropical rain forest down a gully to Torraile Falls, where we could lounge in the warm waters of the small pool beneath. The main cascade was quite warm and when leaning against the warn rock at the base (see attached picture of Judy at Torraile Falls), the heavy torrent of water felt like a good shoulder massage. Although warm, there was not a sulphurous smell to the water. We went through a couple of lovely tropical botanical gardens festooned with lush vegetation, vines, ferns, palm trees, and the most outrageously coloured plants and flowers, from delicate white cat's whiskers to flamboyant red-skirted conical beauties (see attached pictures). At the final Botanical Gardens just outside of town we had our picture taken in front of Diamond Falls, an area famed for the baths used by Napoleon's Josephine.

Back on Veleda we felt we did not want to spend more than this second night at this anchorage, and so before dark took Sprite around the south end of the bay, around the base of Petit Piton into the dramatic Pitons anchorage with both mountains towering up either side. We would have had to pay extra to anchor or moor there, but a circuit in Sprite was sufficient. We then thought of a pre dawn departure for 55 mile sail to Bequia in the Grenadines. We got everything ready before bed, with Veleda prepared for sea, and the alarm set for 0500. In the morning as we were ready to take Sprite over to retrieve our shore line, we suddenly realized we had not checked out of St. Lucia!

We had to wait until 0800 when the customs and immigration office opened. As we tied up Sprite at the dock, another man indicated the tide might take our dinghy under the dock and volunteered to watch it for us. I didn't want to argue or question his supposed local knowledge and said OK. The office was 20 minutes late in opening (island time?), but we completed the forms by 0845 and went back to Sprite. The dinghy watcher asked for $5.00 EC but accepted $4.00 EC as they were the only coins I had. Of course sprite had not moved an inch, and such watching was just another taking advantage of cruisers.

Back on Veleda we cast off our shoreline, got Sprite up on the Dinghy Tow and were off by 0855. Instead of going all the way down to Bequia in the Grenadines, we decide to stop off in St. Vincent at Wallilabou, 40 miles away, the location for the pirates' lair in the movie "Pirates of the Caribbean".

St. Vincent and the Grenadines

We had to rent the movie, "Pirates of the Caribbean" after being in Wallilabou on St. Vincent. The small bay is still relatively deserted with only a couple of restaurants and a few cottages or shacks, which is why the movie company chose it; there were no big resort developments to mar the backgrounds of their shots. It was a boon to the couple of hundred people who live and work in the area. Much of the set is still there, but derelict now or just underused. I understand there is a part two, but I have never seen it.

The pilotbook indicated the shore was steep to, and if one were at anchor a line ashore would be needed and the yacht boys would do so (for a $10.00 tip). On the other hand there were mooring buoys off the Wallilabou Anchorage Restaurant at $20.00 EC, refundable if eating at the restaurant. OK, that sounded good and I wouldn't have to bother with the pesky yacht boys, and Judy likes an excuse to eat out.

There was no problem in coming up to a mooring buoy, other than we were harassed by a yacht boy (man) in a wooden dinghy on our approach, whom I tried to ignore. I stopped with the buoy directly below our bow, but Judy was having trouble picking it up. I rushed forward to help her, as the buoy seemed close to a German yacht on an adjacent buoy, and I didn't want to risk drifting down on it. The problem was that Judy was trying to pull the buoy by its top ring up to our mooring line, a difficult procedure as it involves raising the buoy three feet out of the water while trying to thread the mooring line through it. Since Judy was stuck with the boat hook in the top ring, I pulled on it, raising the buoy, allowing her to pass the line through the ring. I guess I snapped at her that she should have picked up the mooring pick-up line to secure to, not the top ring of the buoy. On the way aft, I gashed my foot, and hobbled into the cockpit trailing some blood. This guy was still trying to tell us what to do, and Judy told me he said he worked for the restaurant and needed to take a line over to some pilings coming out from the rickety dock. OK, We got a line out of the lazarette, but it was too short, as this chap was taking the line into one of the inner pilings. Two lines linked up later, he had this multipart line secured, then came out trying to tell me to put the line on the port quarter rather than the starboard quarter, while another yacht boy came up hanging off my cockpit pulpit trying to sell me ...whatever! With these two nattering at me and the wind drifting me towards the German boat, I screamed at them to get away and let me take care of my own boat!

This was the first time at a mooring buoy that an additional line had to be taken ashore, because the buoys were too close to allow free swinging room. After I had attached the line to a winch and tightened it in, the first man came with a $20.00 receipt from the restaurant for which I paid him, then he waited ... I finally realized he was expecting a tip, and doled out another $5.00. So much for picking up a mooring and not having to bother with these guys!

We were finally left alone! We were safely moored at 1600, after a 40 mile trip, here in St. Vincent (13 14.84N, 061 16.30W) The customs and immigration office was located at the end of a building that looked as if it was a leftover from the movie set. It had no sign outside it, and was just a bare whitewashed room with a desk and an officer who came up for a couple of hours each day to process cruisers. Some of the set buildings were open, but derelict, and the beachside restaurant looked OK, with views over the bay. We didn't bother wandering the shore and just relaxed on Veleda until going to the restaurant at 1900.

It was only OK, moderately expensive with the meals for the two of us coming to $140.00 EC ($60.00 Canadian) with one beer and no wine. We did get the $20.00 EC back. I enquired about their water supply and was informed there would be a hose to extend out to the boat and it would be a reasonable amount of $.25 EC a gallon available in the morning. Sure enough next morning another chap called from the dock if I was ready for water. OK, and he rowed out with a hose, then rowed back to turn it on. When finished he reeled it in, and went in to the restaurant to get the bill for the metered water. It came to $7.00 EC for 28 gallons. I gave him $10.00, and he looked disgusted, so I gave another $5.00, and he bitched about the low tip! Damn him all !!! At least he undid our line to the piling so we could take off, but it left a sour taste in my mouth for this rip-off place.

We were glad to get out of there, and on our way down to Bequia, one of the Grenadine Islands. St. Vincent and the Grenadines are an independent country, a former British colony. St. Vincent is the largest island, about 15 miles long and 9 miles wide, with another Soufriere Volcano 3000 feet high, which erupted in 1973 and again in 1979, dominating the northern end of this lush tropical island. To the south are two groups, the Northern and Southern Grenadines, beautiful tropical islands that are volcanic or coral in origin, many protected by offlying reefs and shoals.

It was only 16 miles down to Admiralty Bay in Bequia where we anchored (13 00.25N, 061 14.61W) without incident, and met up with Paul and Sandra on board Quarterdeck, whom we last met in Lanzarotte in the Canaries last October, an enjoyable reunion.


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